


Like Charges

by alunsina



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop, VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Football, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 20:06:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2634563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alunsina/pseuds/alunsina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taekwoon doesn’t like the idea of sharing his captaincy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Charges

**Author's Note:**

> written for vixxo fic exchange (http://vixxomoments.livejournal.com/) and cross-posted from there. edited and cleaned it up a bit from the original but is largely unchanged. many thanks to K, who kept enthusiastically arguing with me about a plot point despite not being into kpop at all

“So, Taekwoon-ssi,” Hakyeon unceremoniously plops down the grass, holding some audio recording device under Taekwoon’s nose. “What are your thoughts on the transfer student being appointed captain this year? How do you think it’s going to affect the team’s ranking in the U-league?”

Taekwoon frowns down on his bare pale legs, stretched out on the grass, warming under the sun. Under the clear golden light he can see it: half-way down his right leg is a line – he doesn’t tan, shouldn’t have a tan; he just burns up red under the sun if he forgets to put sunblock on, so why– there’s a line separating the rest of him from the part of his leg that had been under the cast for some time.

“Whoa, hard-hitting questions right off the bat. He’s speechless. I think you got him.” Sanghyuk looks up from his notes and narrowly avoids an aggressive grass-on-mouth situation. “Sorry! I was only teasing, Hakyeon-hyung.”

“Jung Taekwoon-ssi?” Hakyeon prompts again.

“The color of my legs’s uneven.” Taekwoon says.

“Yes. I can see that.”

From near one of the empty goalposts, a safe distance away from Taekwoon, Jaehwan offers, “Make it a fluff piece. Ask him if he kept the piece of the cast with Spongebob’s face. Everyone on campus would want updates on that.” Jaehwan is- he’s probably not taking notes on that sketchbook judging from Hongbin’s complete inability to keep a straight face behind him.

That cast was probably sitting in the bottom of a landfill somewhere. No offense to Jaehwan’s drawing abilities and Spongebob’s face.

“Taekwoon-ah, I’m running out of battery and my hand hurts. Any comments at all other than the sound of your breathing?”

“Will you let me do my laps if I give you a line?”

Hakyeon holds up three fingers at him, and at seeing the unrelenting expression on Taekwoon’s face, adds “Only three. And that’s already pushing the doctor’s orders, you football maniac.”

“He’s not captain. _Co-captain._ " Taekwoon says, diplomatic. “I think Kim Minseok will do admirably well.”

 

 *

 

He remembers him as being disappointingly average during last year’s open trials. It turned into quite a spectacle, the last trials before Taekwoon had taken an injury, because Kim Minseok single-handedly doubled both the turnout and the football club’s usual spectators – “ _he is THAT transfer student?” “yeah, the one from the prestigious S university” “why did he ever think to enroll in these backwaters?!"_ There were rumors that Kim Minseok played for S uni during his brief stay there and, understandably, Taekwoon had formed rather high expectations of him.

Minseok is small, becoming smaller still on the field when he’d introduced himself in a thin voice. From the audience someone called out Minseok’s name and screamed an opinion about his round face, and in a move that was decidedly familiar to Taekwoon, Minseok ducked his head and turned red.

Minseok knew a few fancy tricks, was constantly moving on the field, never holding onto the ball too long. Taekwoon could certainly vouch for his fast footwork and fine control. But Minseok missed passes a couple of times and seemed hesitant to confront the other players for possession of the ball.

“Nerves.” The coach had said then, shaking his head, but nonetheless putting Kim Minseok into the reserves list. They could always do with more players.

Now Taekwoon is the one feeling like he’s trying out for a place in his own team. He almost loses his balance before kicking the ball, too nervous to wipe away the sweat dripping into his eyes. He gets one past Wonshik, ball going into the upper left of the net, and Taekwoon reins in the urge to give a whoop of joy.

“A little rusty, but that’s something that’s easily remedied when you join the rest of the team for regular training.” Coach Hwang looks at Wonshik between the goalposts. “How about it? Think you’re ready to hand back the throne to Taekwoon?”

Wonshik tucks the ball under his arm and pulls off his gloves. He wipes away the sweat beading on his forehead. “I’m more than ready. I won’t miss the responsibility at all.” Wonshik jogs towards Taekwoon and clasps his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re back, hyung, to keep them in line.”

“Thanks. Thank you, coach.”

Coach Hwang stands up and waves the words away. “Don’t force yourself too much this time. There’s Minseokkie now to help you with the team. And don’t stay out too late, you two. We have early morning practice tomorrow.”

Taekwoon and Wonshik end up playing for a half hour more in the near-empty field, making use of the last of the afternoon light, and purposely ignoring Hakyeon’s calls and text messages to both of them. (“Let him go insane for a little while, not knowing you’re officially back on the team.” Wonshik says.)  

Someone jogs up to them.

“Eh. Is there special practice today? Ah, hello, sunbaenim.” It’s Minseok in casual jeans and a white t-shirt, giving a bow. Less of a round face and with shorter hair, bangs swept up by the wind.

Taekwoon nods back. He’s been expecting some time to prepare himself before he has to meet him face to face, like tomorrow morning at regular practice. But here he is.

“This is Minseok, your new co-captain.” Wonshik grins. “Minseok-hyung, our legendary captain Taekwoon.” They exchange pleasantries.

“What brought you here?” Wonshik says.

Minseok looks up at Taekwoon, tentative, then pats his bag. “I went to retrieve my extra pair of shoes in the locker. Saw you two playing.“

“Want to join us for a quick game, hyung?”

Minseok is shaking his head. “I don’t have a change of clothes with me. Thanks anyway.”

“We’re about to head home in a while.” Taekwoon says to Wonshik.

 Wonshik blinks. “Oh, really?”

“See you tomorrow then, Wonshik. Taekwoon sunbaenim.” Minseok’s bowing his head again and walks out the way he’d jogged in.

On the walk back to their dorms, Wonshik turns to Taekwoon with that puzzled frown on his face. “I thought you’d take to each other. I guess being similar isn’t all that’s cracked up to be.”

“What do you mean?” Having similar interests in one sport doesn’t guarantee friendship. Sharing rooms with five other guys doesn’t either, but even on the best of days Taekwoon’s questioning himself how he’d gotten close with his roommates (especially Hakyeon, now that they’re all slowly realizing that it’s hard to get rid of his nosy ass).

Wonshik looks thoughtful, shrugging in the end. “I don’t know. He definitely reminds me of you. Quiet, prefers his own company, hella competitive at soccer. I just, I’ve never before seen hyung take an active dislike to someone during their first meeting, you know?”

“I don’t hate him.”                                                       

Wonshik raises his hands in surrender. “Ok. I got that wrong then. Nevermind me.”

I don’t hate Minseok, Taekwoon repeats in his head all the way home, a mantra.

 

*

 

Hate is too strong a word. He doesn’t hate Minseok, only Taekwoon has come to identify the off-key buzzing behind his ears during morning practice as mild irritation –no matter how early or how dark it is outside when Taekwoon leaves for school, Minseok’s already there in the cold empty field, bouncing the ball on his knees.

This time too is no different. He arrives in the locker room out of breath, sweaty, and feels defeated at the sight of Minseok sitting on the bench, tying careful knots with his shoelaces.

“Good morning, sunbae. You’re early today too.” Minseok inclines his head at him, then goes back to tightening his shoelaces for who knows how long. Silence lands thick and dense like heavy syrup, and Taekwoon bails outside to get some cold fresh air, waiting it out before going back inside again.

Minseok, good sense or no sense, follows him outside.

“Sorry if I made it uncomfortable. I’m not-” Minseok tilts his head up, almost like he’s trying to find his words in the pre-dawn sky. Taekwoon knows that feeling, Taekwoon should be familiar with it, but he lets Minseok flounder in that particular purgatory.

Coach is going to kill him. “Drop the formalities. We’re the same age and we’re both captains.” Taekwoon begins and now he’s the one out of words. He should’ve come in later with the juniors no matter how less hardworking it would make him look compared to Minseok. It shouldn’t matter, they’re on the same team anyway, he’s still a captain, what the hell’s taking his teammates so long??

Yixing ambles in from behind them, looking dazed.

Minseok offers the junior a smile like the sunrise. Yixing only joined the club last year, and they’ve been training him as an alternate to Wonshik. “Hey. You got up early for a change.”

Yixing looks at them both through half-lidded eyes and greets them a good morning. “Or goodnight. Is it considered waking up early if one has never gotten any sleep at all?” He lets himself be coddled by Minseok, who throws an arm around him and drags him back into the warmth of the heated locker rooms.

“—get in some short nap before the coach-“ Minseok’s voice trails behind him, soft, and surely, surely, they aren’t similar at all, because Taekwoon has never smiled so brightly like that at anyone.

 

*

 

Their first game of the season with the neighboring college turns out to be an unmitigated disaster. After a humiliating score of 4-0, they all make the slow dragging shuffle of shame back to their bus, spending the entire trip home shrouded in tomb-like silence.     

Back in their own locker room, trying to analyze what went spectacularly wrong in the course of that entire game, their coach says “I can’t for the life of me remember if there were any glaring weak spots I overlooked during training. Though it’s becoming obvious now that I have two, three, or four different football teams under my hands instead of one.”

“There’s been a miscommunication.” Dongwoo has been avoiding looking at Taekwoon since after that second goal.

“A miscommunication,” Coach Hwang repeats. “when you all lost your mind out there and blindly followed our midfielder trying to play offense without the ball, or the striker who is playing catch-up with the opposing team.” Taekwoon definitely doesn’t turn red with that last one, doesn’t flinch when the coach’s sharp gaze settles on him before sweeping to someone in the far corner of the room. Minseok.

“Sort yourselves out.” The coach says and Taekwoon knows it’s meant for the two captains rather than the whole team.

Taekwoon waits until the locker room empties out, nodding at Wonshik to go on ahead, endures the glare of Dongwoo while Yoseob and the others give him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. Yixing bows at Taekwoon before going out the door. He is tugging a protesting Tao behind him who seems to be on the verge of saying something at Taekwoon but ultimately exits the locker room without uttering another word. 

Minseok raises his head once and goes back to folding his sweaty clothes in one of the benches, rolling the used socks into compact bundles (he has small hands, he is as meticulous as Hongbin around the dorms, his mouth is curved in concentration like he does on the field; is he stalling for time or is he waiting?) Taekwoon wipes off the sweat at the back of his neck.

“It was my fault that we lost possession many times back there.” The folding stops. “I’m sorry. I was being reckless with receiving your passes.” It was easier saying it in his head without Minseok staring up at him, all wide-eyed.

“Are you apologizing? To me?”

“I am.” He doesn’t know how he can be any clearer. “It’s bad for the team to be divided like this.” Coach was right, now that Taekwoon thinks about it. It’s obvious there are members of the club that are Taekwoon’s – guys he’d been playing with even before his captaincy, before he took an injury – just as Minseok also has his. It isn’t a clean divide and there a people that are hovering in between. But it’s enough to make it feel like the club’s a scattered mess, fighting with parts of itself.

“Yeah. We were a mess.” Minseok releases a breath. “And no, I should be the one saying sorry. I wasn’t thinking clearly during the match.” He rubs a hand over his face like he’s tired and then he stifles a chuckle. “I can’t believe this, I thought you were going to kill me.”

“No.” Where did he get that?

“It’s just-“ Minseok falters then and shakes his head, “Tomorrow.” he says with conviction. “We should practice together tomorrow. Before the next big game at least.”

Taekwoon nods. He wonders what Minseok was about to say before he’d cut himself off.

 

*

 

“I don’t understand.” Taekwoon mutters to the floor.

Hongbin settles beside him and grabs the remote. Taekwoon has lost track of what’s showing on television. It’s probably something with subtitles now that Hongbin’s in control of it. “If you’re just realizing that about Jaehwan-hyung you’re four semesters too late.” There’s the strong smell of butter and popcorn.

“I am an open book!” Jaehwan shouts from his room.

“Start opening your actual books and finish that paper so we could watch a movie!” Hongbin shouts back.

“Do I look like I kill people?” Taekwoon asks.

“You have an interesting… resting face.” Hongbin stands up. “Oh. Look. We ran out of popcorn.” And lugs the still full popcorn bowl into the area where they keep their microwave.

Taekwoon rolls over on his other side and sees Hakyeon poking at Wonshik’s sleeping form.

“Stop bothering him.” Taekwoon says.

“Did anyone made fun of you in school, Taekwoonie?”

“No.” He stares at the ceiling for a while, chewing on his lip and contemplating what he’s going to say and how he’s going to say it. “Do you sometimes wish you could read people’s minds?”

Hakyeon grins wide. “Ohoho.”

“Nevermind.” Taekwoon rolls over again, away from Hakyeon. Clearly this is a mistake. He has the worst set of friends ever.

“You scared someone with your face didn’t you? Didn’t you? I told you to smile more often. Is it someone I know? Someone cute? Tell me.” Now he’s the one getting poked.

“I’m going to sleep.” He announces and goes to lock himself in his own room.

 

*

 

For the first time in a long while Taekwoon’s the first to arrive in early morning practice. It shouldn’t be an issue as practices so soon after a disheartening game like that would drain anyone’s motivation to get out of bed. But he was expecting- He changes quickly into his training clothes, puts on his shoes, starts on his stretches. He is taking his time with it, working carefully with his right leg. Like he’s waiting, which he isn’t because that’s ridiculous, though it is weird how everything feels off when he’s alone in the field and not purposely ignoring the presence of someone else doing kicks from the corner of his eye.

“You started already.” comes Minseok’s voice. Taekwoon turns to look and Minseok’s hopping on one leg towards him, stretching back his other foot, watching. He’s not sure if it’s just shadows or if Minseok’s actually pouting in disappointment.

“I waited.” Taekwoon doesn’t mean to sound petulant, but Minseok is late, surprisingly late, and it isn’t as satisfying as he’d thought it would be, finally beating him at practice. He makes to get up on his feet even if he isn’t that finished with his stretches yet, intent on getting to the ball and starting their match. Minseok taps his shoulders and he settles back down on the grass.

“You just came from a serious injury.” Minseok explains and Taekwoon doesn’t protest with being made to complete his stretches. He is a bit cold and Minseok’s hands are big warm spots on his back as he bends to reach his toes.

Minseok takes a deep fortifying breath, then: “I was waiting for the right timing yesterday. To apologize, I mean, until you beat me to it. No, please don’t turn around and stare at me. I won’t be able to do this properly.”

Taekwoon exerts considerable willpower to do as Minseok says.  

“I was trying to prove myself, trying to compete with you, I guess, knowing you’re their original captain. I didn’t think about the team at all and I just wanted to score by myself.”

There’s a heat creeping up the side of his neck, ears, face, because Minseok’s words doesn’t so much sound like his own confession but something damning coming from inside Taekwoon:  _that was me, I was competing with you, I wanted everyone else to think I was the better captain_ , he wants to say. It’s the longest string of words he’s ever heard from Minseok though and he doesn’t want to cut him off.

“So, I’m sorry. Not because you said it first but really, it was, it was all my fault.” Minseok squeezes his shoulders once, lets it go. Taekwoon has stopped the pretense of doing his stretches and misses the warmth on his back.

“Do I scare you?” Taekwoon asks. He directs his question to his knees like it can take the pressure off from answering.  

There’s a pause. “Sometimes. You make me nervous.”  

“Ah. I didn’t mean to.”

The laugh comes out sharp and clear. “Yeah, I should’ve known better.” He helps Taekwoon to his feet with a surprisingly strong grip for one his size. Taekwoon wishes he could’ve seen him laugh, if it was the same wide-mouth carefree laughter Minseok reserves for whenever Tao does the most ridiculous wushu stunts to get a goal past Wonshik, whenever Yixing tries his hands at trash-talking.  

“I never hated you, you know.” Taekwoon suddenly offers and the truth of it sinks low in his gut.

Minseok ducks his head, ears red. Maybe Taekwoon has scared him off again and that’s just his luck. “That- that’s good.” Minseok says. “We should get on with practice before the others arrive.”

 

*

 

Their next official game is a draw. The other two games, they win, Taekwoon barely eking out a goal past the defenders. It probably helps that Taekwoon’s looking at Minseok now and Minseok’s looking back. 

 

*

 

It’s the third time – first were some lecture notes that Hongbin wanted to return, second were books Hakyeon meant to lend to Minseok (“You see him everyday, right? Can you also ask him about his thoughts on the new Werber novel? Because he really hasn’t been replying to my texts about it lately.”) – that Taekwoon notices and asks “Since when did all of you become friends with him?”

“Since we shared some classes. Don’t be so grumpy about it. I know you have this weird vendetta against Minseok but you’re still our best friend. He’s not stealing us away from you.” Hakyeon hands him a stack of cds.

Taekwoon frowns down at them. 4Men and Trey Songz and Park Hyoshin and the old JJ Lin his sister gave him during highschool. “These are my cds.”

“Do you really want Hongbin to tear me limb from limb if I touch his Park Hyoshin collection?”

“That’s not the point.”

The point, Taekwoon later realizes, is he knows very little of Minseok despite spending most of his mornings trading passes with the guy. It’s become a habit for them both to play against each other about an hour before the other club members arrive, and though Taekwoon has come to know Minseok’s quirks in his play – he favors his left leg, he’s still at a loss at trying to steal the ball from guys bigger than him although he’s getting better, he laughs until his gums show – they do very little talking outside football and gameplay and the club.

In one of his voice classes it even surprises him that one of his classmates is well-acquainted with Minseok.

“Minseok-hyung is the co-captain in your team, right? How’s he doing?” Jongdae asks him in between going over their new song assignments. “He has been tightlipped about it and I haven’t had time to drop by one of your afternoon practices and say hi.”

“He’s doing great. In the field and in helping out with the members.”

“Oh, that’s good to hear. I was worried he won’t be able to go back to playing.” At Taekwoon’s unspoken question, Jongdae adds, “We went to the same highschool. Same football club too. Though I couldn’t really play because I suck at football but it was fun being their manager.”

 

*

 

He lingers at the end of afternoon practice, lays back down on the warm grass, and hasn’t noticed he’d drifted off to sleep until he opens his eyes and catches Minseok staring at his face, crouching next to him.

“Grumpy as a cat today.” He hears him say, poking him in the cheek. “Thanks for the cds.”

“They’re mine. Not Hakyeon’s.”

Minseok curves his mouth into a smile. “I know. Your name is plastered all over them.”

“Tired.” Taekwoon gets halfway into sitting up, the palms of his hands pushing into the dirt, when a familiar twinge goes straight up his leg and he can’t quite hide a wince. Minseok clicks his tongue at him. Taekwoon is still feeling a bit woozy from that short nap but he’s suddenly wide awake now at the feel of Minseok’s warm hands on his right ankle.

“May I?”

Taekwoon nods. Strong fingers press onto the knot of muscle and nerves in his right calf, a slow building pressure that releases the tight tension there and he heaves a soft sigh of relief.

“Injuries don’t really go away even after they’ve healed properly.” Minseok says to Taekwoon’s knees, continues to massage his way down his ankle, forehead scrunched in concentration. “So we mustn’t take it for granted. It may not have the same range of motion, may not listen to us when we want to push it harder. But we have to keep at it and then we can slowly work our way past that."

“If we complete our stretches.” Taekwoon mutters to the top of Minseok’s head.

“Yes, if we diligently complete our stretches. Before and after practice.” Minseok looks up at him then, stares at him with careful scrutiny, still with a delicate hold on his ankle like maybe he’s made of glass. Taekwoon isn’t going to break anytime soon though he has never felt this raw and exposed since he first played football in front of a crowd, since he first sang to an actual audience.

“Feel better?”

“Yes, thanks.” He sounds hoarse in his own ears.

Yixing comes up to both of them, already changed out of his training clothes and slinging his bag over his shoulder. He looks worried. “Is Taekwoon-hyung hurt?”

“I’m fine.” Taekwoon says just as Minseok confirms that he hasn’t been doing his cool downs properly these last few practices.

“You should’ve called me. Didn’t you say I have amazing healing powers, hyung? Didn’t I help you out a lot last year?”

“Yes, you did.” Minseok is trying to hold it in, biting down on the corner of his lip.

Yixing kneels by Taekwoon’s legs and when he starts his ‘healing’ ritual of waving his fingers around and saying ‘chu’ a lot, Taekwoon can’t help but snort in undignified laughter.

“Yixing is the cutest, isn’t he?” Minseok says, an odd mixture of proud and endeared, and Taekwoon sits on both of his hands to stop himself from doing something drastic, like maybe prove Minseok wrong.

 

*

 

He’d asked him one time, a few weeks after they started practicing together and their winning streak began. It was half an hour before dawn, too dark to even see their shadows, and so they preoccupied themselves with warm-up exercises while a comfortable silence stretched between them.

“Why didn’t you stay there?” Taekwoon asked because it had become obvious that Minseok was talented despite Taekwoon’s earlier misgivings.

“They didn’t make me co-captain like this football club did.” Minseok smiled and lapsed back into silence.  

And that was that.

 

*

 

Their winning streak stretches from four to five games, then six and seven, and some of the universities and colleges are starting to pay more attention to them. It seems inevitable that others would want to check out the new competition. Their next big game is still two weeks away and yet the football club hasn’t been lacking in requests for practice matches.

“This is a great opportunity for us. They’ve been on the top of the league these past few seasons and we can learn a lot from them. So prepare like this is your last game of the season. We want to give them a fight.” Coach Hwang says before they start morning practice.      

“It’s just a practice game, right?” Yoseob asks, curbing the odd tension and electricity in the locker room air.

“But it’s S university. In two days.” Dongwoo says. “That’s a pretty big deal.”

They do drills, shootout practice, and if Minseok seems out of it most of the time Taekwoon doesn’t draw much attention to it. When Taekwoon leaves for the locker rooms to shower and change, gets himself ready for his classes, Minseok is still there on the field, practicing his kicks against the empty net. 

 

*

 

Jongdae tells him:

“He doesn’t like talking about it, the year he got injured.  He was a freshman in S uni then and he’d gotten in there with his best friend on a sports scholarship. They were a famous combo in our highschool. The best midfielder-striker pair in our district.”

“What was the injury?”

Jongdae holds up three fingers. “Broke his right ankle in three places during a practice game. It was pure bad luck. Some big player collided into him and he fell badly. That’s it.” He takes a sip of his iced coffee. “You’re awfully lucky that you’re getting all of this within a span of five minutes. I had to piece everything together by myself for a year and a half because he doesn’t tell anyone anything. Did you know he was already out of the cast and into his second month of physical therapy before I knew about it? And we were close too.”

If Hakyeon and the others hadn’t seen him on that game when he broke his leg, if they hadn’t been his roommates, Taekwoon doubts he’d want to bother them with news of his injury.

“He probably doesn’t want to be a burden to you.” Taekwoon says.

“That’s the stupidest reason ever. Anyway, it wasn’t a surprise when they dropped him from the scholarship. It took him the better part of the year just to be able to walk on that ankle without falling to pieces because of the pain.”     

“Then he transferred here?”

Jongdae picks up a piece of tissue, twines it around his fingers. “Yeah. I was surprised he listened to me for once. But maybe he really just wanted to get away from there. Seems like he made the right choice.” Jongdae looks at him. “I’m really happy that someone’s looking out for him in the team like this.”

“Um.” Taekwoon takes his time sipping at his lukewarm latte. “What happened to his best friend?”

“Oh, he’s still there. He’s the star player of the university.”

 

*

 

On a whim Taekwoon passes by the football field on his way home from classes. There, near one of the goalposts, he can make out a familiar figure lying down on the grass, spread out like a starfish.

He hasn’t changed out of his training clothes since this morning practice. “Did you not go to class?” Taekwoon prods one of Minseok’s arms.

“Taekwoonie.” Minseok inclines his head to look up at him, then goes back to morose cloud-watching. “I don’t think I can win against them.”

“It’s a practice game.” Taekwoon says but he knows he wants to beat the hell out of the other team like it’s a championship match. Minseok shakes his head.

“They know how I play. They have someone there who can read my mind.” He glares down at his own body. “And I’m damaged goods, Taekwoonie.”

“Are you drunk? Or high?” Just a thought, because Minseok has never addressed him with a nickname before.

“I’m hungry.” And this time, yes, Minseok is definitely pouting up at him. “I haven’t eaten since this morning.”

Taekwoon hits him lightly on the head. All his talk about stretches and post-injury care and then Minseok goes ahead and does something like this.

“I’m hungry.” Minseok repeats.

Well. At least that’s something he can handle.

 

*

 

Sanghyuk enters the kitchen. “Hyung, you cooked? What did you make-“ Stops and backtracks. Enters the kitchen area again.

“Hello?”

“Uh hello, I’m Kim Minseok. Taekwoon’s teammate.” Minseok stands up and Sanghyuk bows. There’s still food bulging inside one of Minseok’s cheeks. It should be utterly disgusting. Totally disgusting. But it isn’t. Taekwoon doesn’t understand himself anymore.

Taekwoon gestures at the counter. “There’s bokkumbap for the rest of you.”

“But he’s eating your special kimchi stew. And is that meat?”

Minseok turns to Taekwoon, and he hasn’t finished his bowl of rice yet and he still has food in between his chopsticks. “I don’t mind sharing. I want to eat your bokkumbap.”

Greedy too.

Hongbin and Jaehwan do a similar double-take when they find Minseok eating his way into his second serving of bokkumbap. Wonshik just mumbles to save him some dinner for later, blinks for a minute or two at Minseok like he’s a hallucination in their dorm, then sleepwalks his way back into his room.

“Everything’s delicious. Taekwoon is a good cook. Do you eat like this everyday?” Minseok asks Hakyeon who comes in late. To Hakyeon’s credit, he doesn’t let the surprise show on his face. But then he grins wide, all sharp white teeth, like he’s a shark scenting blood.

“No, Taekwoon only cooks whenever he feels like it. And I guess when he wants to impress someone special.” He turns to Taekwoon. “I didn’t know you had a change of heart about Minseokkie. He doesn’t seem scared of you now. Wait, what are you doing?”

Taekwoon grabs Hakyeon by his shoulders, pushes him out of the kitchen and into Jaehwan's room, with strict instructions to ‘not let him out’ until he says so or ‘else’.

“Hey! I want to eat too!” Hakyeon shouts from behind the door. “Jung Taekwoon!”

“That was rude.” Minseok says. He’s finished off another bowl. If this is what mental breakdowns are like, Taekwoon’s got to stock up on more food.

“Not at all.” Taekwoon says.

 

*

 

Day of their practice match. Taekwoon’s too early as usual, expecting Minseok to be on the field and working twice as hard on his footwork. Instead he finds him in the locker room already in shorts and in uniform, lying on his back on one of the benches, in deep sleep and drooling in one corner of his mouth.

It finally caught up with him, Taekwoon thinks, poking at one undrooled-on cheek. There are dark shadows under his eyes and his brows are scrunched up like he’s having a bad dream. One of his arm is hanging awkwardly on the side of the bench and his right leg is all bent up in an angle that wouldn’t look comfortable to anyone.

Taekwoon hates doing it but he has to. “Minseok. Wake up.” Minseok makes a sound like a wounded animal, wipes off the drool on his face, and goes back to sleeping.

“Your leg’s going to be all stiff and hard to work with. Come on.” He prods his arm. Nothing. Maybe a prank would work better. He pinches Minseok’s nose. Minseok sputters and breathes through his mouth instead.

Taekwoon sighs and goes to straighten Minseok’s legs as best as he can. He curls his fingers around one bare ankle, _broken in three places_ , and feels something hot and bright, something fiercely protective bloom inside his chest.

“You’re not damaged goods.” Taekwoon says, looking down at the thin skin of Minseok’s ankle. “I think you’re one of the strongest, one of the most hardworking persons I know. You don’t have to beat them on your own. I’m here. The whole team’s here.” He traces that one long scar along Minseok’s leg. Buoyed by a strange wave of tenderness, he bends down and kisses it

 

*

 

-and looks up to find Minseok blinking at him, fully conscious and annoyingly awake.

“Taekwoon?”

What to do. He still has an incriminating hand around Minseok’s limb. Let it go first, he thinks. He uncurls his fingers, takes a couple of steps back, makes himself as small as possible in the hopes he can pass through the floor and disappear forever.

“Hey! Taekwoon! Come on.” Minseok’s crouching right there, beside him, around him, trying to get through his tangle of arms and legs. Taekwoon ducks his head and burrows his burning face deeper into his hands and knees –  _why did I go around confessing to his ankle -_ and Minseok says, “-the strongest, hardworking, what, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever-“ and Taekwoon wouldn’t be able to stomach it if Minseok laughs at his words, if he smiles the kind of genial smile he has when he doesn’t really want to talk about things.

“Look at me. Please.” The grip on his wrists is firm and the voice is almost pleading. Taekwoon lets Minseok tug away the hands covering his face. Minseok himself is turning as red as Taekwoon feels. It doesn't make sense. His hot and cold hands slide up to cradle Taekwoon's jaw.

A fortifying breath. “Look.” Minseok struggles to keep his gaze steady. “I like you. I think I liked you even when I thought you were going to kill me, which says a lot more about me than you. But if that was some weird pre-game ritual-“

It’s enough of a permission for Taekwoon to pull at Minseok’s shirt, just pull at his entire being, for Taekwoon to tilt his head until he fits right and perfect over the soft warm curve of Minseok’s mouth. 

 

*

 

“They’re here!” Tao shouts from across the field. “I saw their bus pull over and it’s no joke, it’s bigger and cooler looking than our bus. I think they brought the whole team. They look scary! And they have sunglasses on!”

“You can wear your sunglasses too, Tao, if you want.” Yixing says.

“Tao, calm down.” The coach says.

“Okay.”

Minseok is taking nervous laps around them all but he smiles bright and big when he catches Taekwoon watching him.

Taekwoon nods.

Minseok gives him a thumbs up.

“I don’t know what just happened.” Wonshik says, looking up after checking the fit of his gloves for the nth time.

“Just encouraging each other.” Taekwoon says.

 

*

 

The sun is getting to be too warm to still be laying around in the grass unprotected by an umbrella. He doesn't find it in himself to move though.

He tilts his head to the side. “Hakyeon wants to interview you. School paper.”

“Hmm.” Minseok says. “I’m bad at them.”

“It’s front page.”

He hears him wheeze and choke like he's sick or dying, maybe both.  “That’s worse.” He rolls over to where Taekwoon is, tucking closely onto his side, Minseok's hand holding onto Taekwoon's waist.

“I’ll hide here. He'll never find me.” Minseok mumbles into the skin of Taekwoon’s neck. He feels his grin, his hot breath, and Taekwoon tries not to shiver. Instead he concentrates on the clump of clouds drifting overhead that weirdly reminds him of Wonshik.

“Coffee later?” Taekwoon asks.

“Sure.” Minseok smiles up at him, teeth showing and eyes crinkling, and this must be what it’s like to have the sun too close in orbit that his ear is burning red.

Minseok points at the sky. “Hey, doesn’t that look like our Wonshikkie with his buzzcut?”

 

**

 


End file.
